Will Treat Small Animals
by Baron Nomaw
Summary: Draco/Hermione oneshot that takes place during fourth year, after the Ferret Incident.


**A/N: I had an idea for a Draco/Harry scene that takes place fourth year right after the Ferret Incident... but then I realized that Harry probably wasn't ready to give a crap at that point, and Draco was most certainly not in any mood to listen to him. It evolved into this instead.**

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><p>The Common Room was still in stitches over what had happened, and eventually Hermione couldn't listen to it anymore. She stood up. "Can I use the Map for a bit, Harry?" she asked.<p>

Harry frowned up at her. "Why?"

"No reason." She shrugged, but then realized that there was no chance at all the boys wouldn't wonder. What would shut down their curiosity fastest? Aha. "Well – a boy," she admitted, truthfully. She ducked her head. "Don't ask. Just let me borrow it. I'll bring it back."

Ron looked faintly disgusted. "A boy? Who? And what for?"

She glared at him. "Do you really want the gory details, Ron? Because I'll be happy to share."

Harry was already digging through his bag. "No, no, that's all right," he assured. "Here. Go on – have fun. And… whatever you're doing, keep it to yourself, alright?"

"Thanks, Harry." She snatched the map from him and fled the Common Room.

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><p>She touched her wand to the parchment. "I solemnly swear I am up to no good." When the map swam into focus she scoured it singlemindedly, checking all the solitary dots first, and before long she found what she was looking for in a hallway on the second floor. Draco Malfoy – alone.<p>

She went to his hiding place and discovered that it was actually pretty ingenious. It was in a corridor that was pretty deserted, and you had to crawl behind a big stone statue to access the windowsill he was sitting in.

She decided not to just creep in there after him though; if somebody surprised him now he was likely to hex first and ask questions later. So, she knocked on the statue and said: "Malfoy?"

She could hear him jump. "What?" he snapped. "Who's that?"

"It's me – Hermione Granger. May I come in?"

He sucked in a breath and she could have sworn she heard a sniffle. Well-concealed, but still… "Sorry, no Mudbloods allowed. Get lost."

"Knock it off, Malfoy," she said sharply. "There's nobody here to impress. I just want to talk a minute – let me in."

"Talk?" Now she was _sure _she heard him sniffling. "What on earth…?"

"I'm coming in." She ducked under the statue's arm and crawled in, half-expecting to be cursed, and then stood up to crack her back. "There. See – it's just me."

"Wonderful."

The space was small enough that she couldn't quite give him as much distance as he wanted, but when she sat on the opposite corner of the windowsill there were still a few feet between them. "Are you all right?" she asked without any further introduction. "After what Professor Moody did. I _don't _approve, and I just wanted to come check that you weren't hurt."

He looked at her with utter noncomprehension. "That I wasn't hurt?" he repeated stupidly.

"Yes. You could have been. So someone should definitely have checked on you, but it didn't look as if you were running off to the hospital wing and, and I thought instead you'd run off someplace alone." She knew she was talking too fast, too much, too nervous… but she couldn't stop. "And here you are. And you _are_ bleeding," she added, trying to sound apologetic for being so right.

Malfoy swiped at his temple, where blood was winding down from his hair to pool in his ear. "I'm fine."

She rolled her eyes. "It's one thing to play tough in front of people whose opinions you care about," she lectured, "But I know you don't give a hoot about me. You've got a cut on your head. Let me heal it for you."

"Stay away from me," he burst out, turning to press his back against the wall and face her squarely. He had his wand out. "I mean it."

"I'm not going to hurt you."

"I'd like to see you try," he sneered.

"Don't be an idiot, Malfoy. You know me. I'm not going to-... to _do _anything."

"You're pointing a wand at me," he managed, still pressed tight against the wall. He was fighting the urge to flinch – and losing.

Magic was amazingly powerful, Hermione knew that… but still, the sight of big bad Draco Malfoy cowering in fear of a girl with a stick made her want to giggle.

She lowered her wand and he relaxed. "I told you," she said calmly, "I think what Professor Moody did was wrong and I'd like to do something about it. That's all. Let me help you – I can close cuts. Turn your head."

He scooted a little closer, wand still out. She didn't move, even when he dug it in under her chin. "If this is _anything _other than what you're saying now," he began, almost a whisper. "If you do something bad to me – or if you tell your friends something I don't like the sound of, or if you even _think_-"

"Malfoy, I told you-"

"_Shut up._" Emotion drove a few sparks from the end of his wand, and it burned her. She whimpered and pulled away.

He withdrew the wand. "Sorry – I didn't mean to do that."

"I know," she said, rubbing at the spot, "It's fine." Then she smiled and pushed her hair back, now that it was apparent he was going to cooperate. "Listen, you don't have to worry about any of that. You know perfectly well it's not my style to hex people when they're not paying attention. And you know I won't tell anybody – my friends wouldn't appreciate this any more than yours. So. Turn your head and let me concentrate."

After a long fierce staring contest he turned his head and shifted his hair around to show her the cut.

"Okay. Hold still, this won't hurt." She drew her wand over it, muttering an incantation. The bleeding stopped on the first pass, and the cut closed up neatly on the second. "There. You'll want to put something on it though, so it doesn't scar. There's a couple of potions that-"

"I know," he interrupted, sounding annoyed. "Unlike your friends, _I _pay attention in Potions."

"Oh- sorry." She gave him a flustered smile, but he still wasn't looking at her. He was stiff and tense, which meant he was feeling uncomfortable. Well, good. She had just done difficult magic for him as a favor, he _should _be re-thinking his stupid prejudices now. "Anywhere else?" she said, breaking the silence. "That _can't _be it – you hit the ground hard. More than once."

His mouth twisted. "Thanks for the reminder, you bitch."

The venom in his voice was totally unexpected, and she drew back. Then she glared. "Stop it. Acting like a baby does not help. I _said_, is there anywhere else I can heal for you? Come on," she pressed, "Unless you'd prefer to show your friends – and remind _them_?"

She kept her face neutral while he searched it, for _something_… and eventually he decided that whatever he was afraid of wasn't there. "My shoulder," he said at last. "I think there's something on my shoulder."

"Take your robes off and let me see." She rolled her eyes. "I'm not going to jump your bones, Malfoy. Even if we didn't hate each other, you're not my type. No offense."

"Yeah? And what _is_ your type?" he asked as he slid his robes off his shoulders and unbuttoned his shirt. "Red hair and freckles? You've got lots of them to choose from, at least."

"Maybe I don't choose. Maybe I just have all of them at once. Now shut up and show me-_Malfoy!_"

"What?" he said, craning his neck to try and look over his shoulder. "What's the matter?"

"Eugh! You've got a, an enormous-… oh awful, up on your back." She stopped wincing long enough to take a closer look. "It's just a scrape, but it's huge and there's gravel all inside it. Your skin's completely shredded off, how could you not feel this?"

He shrugged, with the other shoulder. "I felt it."

"Well, I-… ugh, I don't know any spells for scrapes. I mean, it's not the same as bruises or closing a cut… do you know any?"

"Do I look like a mediwitch to you?" He sighed. "Well just do _something_. Just spell the rocks out of it and it'll scab up on its own eventually."

"Spell the rocks out? I don't know how. Look, what if I just treat it the Muggle way? I have a First Aid kit."

"A what?"

She took it from her bag to show him and explain. Amazingly, he didn't put up any fight beyond a very dubious look and a mutter of: "The _Muggle _way. Wonderful."

First she used her wand to wet a bit of her sleeve and then hesitated over the wound. "This will hurt," she warned, and then brushed the bigger bits of rock out by hand. He tensed and hugged his knees but didn't say anything. "Sorry, sorry," she kept saying, until he snapped at her to shut up.

After that she spelled some water over it to wash out what dirt was left, and then used a Drying Charm on his shirt. "Why bother," he muttered, "I'm going to throw it away anyway."

She rolled her eyes. "There's no reason to walk around soaking wet in the meantime. Now: I don't have any antibacterial ointment on me, all I have is alcohol, so we're going to have to use that."

"Anti-what?"

"Muggles make different products to protect against infection," she explained. "The only one I have with me is going to sting terribly. I'm sorry about that."

"I don't care. Clean it now with whatever you've got, and I'll get proper potions later. Why do you have Muggle medicine, anyway?"

He made no effort to take the sneer out of his voice, so she poured alcohol onto a piece of gauze quite happily. "So that I can torment patients I don't like," she answered. "Don't worry, I won't tell anyone if you scream."

"If I-? What _is _that stuff? I can smell it from here."

"I told you what it is. Deep breath, okay? One, two, _three_."

Malfoy screamed his head off, and Hermione considered herself well-rewarded for her work.

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><p>Some time later, Hermione was in trouble. She had tried, and failed, to talk her way out of it. She was cornered in an abandoned corridor by Vincent Crabbe – who had gotten decidedly more creepy lately, until he'd started to seem like an actual threat, instead of just a particularly unattractive appendage of Draco Malfoy.<p>

Today Crabbe was alone – with her. Hermione's wand was in her robes. She couldn't reach for it, because Crabbe's wand was currently poking her in the chest and there was no doubt that he was willing to use it. He had already singed her hair and her clothes.

Finally there were footsteps around the corner. "Vince?"

Hermione caught her breath. A friend of Crabbe's. But at least, of all Crabbe's friends…

"Draco? In here." Crabbe grinned. "Now the party's really starting," he whispered to her.

Hermione's eyes shot to Malfoy's when he rounded the corner, hoping to wordlessly remind him that he owed her a favor, but when he recognized her he didn't even miss a beat. "Vince, are you back here snogging a Mudblood?" he asked, disbelieving and disgusted.

"Snogging? Not a chance!" Crabbe shifted to show off the burn marks. "We're just having some fun. Want in?"

"Having fun," Malfoy repeated. The disgust had intensified. "No, I don't _want in._ I want you to come have fun with your own kind, where you belong. You:" he snapped in Hermione's direction. "Get your sorry self out of our dungeons." He draped an arm around Crabbe's shoulders. "Cmon, Vince. Let's go."

The wand that was poking her withdrew and Hermione started to edge away immediately.

Malfoy started leading Crabbe away, but turned back for one moment to call to her: "Hey, Granger!" He gestured to himself and then to her, back and forth a few times. _I'm watching you, _the gesture might have said. He fired a quick burst from his wand at her and then left with his friend, both of them laughing.

But Hermione noticed afterwards that where Malfoy's spell had hit the wall, it had etched four perfectly straight lines, forming a box. Aha. _You and me, _he meant. _We're square._

"Cute, Malfoy," she growled at the empty air, and then hurried up to get out of the dungeons.

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><p>The End.<p>

As of now, this is going to be a one-shot.


End file.
